


The Vaccination Contemplation

by Fanfiction_Wrangler_42



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injections, anxiety attacks sort of, idk why i wrote this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfiction_Wrangler_42/pseuds/Fanfiction_Wrangler_42
Summary: The Sides had to be vaccinated.None of them were particularly happy about this fact. Will any of them remain stoic in the face of the sting, or will they allow Thomas to baby them? (Spoiler alert: Thomas babies them. It's cute.)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter One - Virgil

**Author's Note:**

> hhhh why did i do this i could have done literally anything else but i did this
> 
> yeah.

The Sides had to be vaccinated.

None of them were particularly happy about this fact. Thomas had led the six of them to a private waiting room in Dr. Picani’s clinic, and told them to sit down on the couch provided while he went into Dr. Picani’s office for a ‘private discussion’. The Sides sat in relative silence until he came back.

“You’re all glaring at me,” he remarked as he sat down on the table to face them all.

“I don’t want to be here,” Virgil muttered by way of response, and the others seemed to share the sentiment. Thomas smiled gently.

“I know this isn’t the most pleasant of excursions, but it’s a very important one, nonetheless.”

Virgil grumbled, but nodded in acquiescence. Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of pamphlets. “Emile gave me these,” he said as he passed them around. “They’ve got information on the vaccines you’re getting; what they’re for, how long they last, side effects et cetera. So you can look through it if you feel like it.”

Logan took the offered pamphlet and immediately began reading through it with lightning speed. “There are two,” he spoke as he skimmed the contents. “One for Psethocecimea, and the other for…” He trailed off, and looked up in wonderment. “He found a vaccine for _The Blanks?”_

“Uh, yeah,” Thomas replied. “That’s actually why he called me to get you guys here. I dunno what it is, but he’s assured me it’s important you don’t get it.” Logan nodded absent-mindedly, already back to reading.

Thomas turned to Virgil. “Hey, Emile and I were wondering if we could talk to you about something before we start.” Virgil’s eyes widened and his hands began to tremble. He shoved them into his jacket pockets as he slowly stood up.

“Uhm. Okay.” Thomas put a comforting hand on his back and guided him into the office.

“It’s alright, Virge,” he murmured as they arrived. “We figured this’d probably be a pretty stressful situation for you, so we came up with a couple ways to make it easier to deal with.”

Virgil swallowed hesitantly. “Oh… Uh, thanks…”

“You wanna sit down?” Thomas asked. Virgil hesitated, before hoisting himself up onto the examination bed. Thomas sat down to the right of him, and gently pulled his hand from his pocket to hold. “It’s okay, Virge,” he said softly. Virgil let out a shuddering sigh, but nodded. A few moments later, Emile entered from the door on the other side of the office they entered from.

“The back room is ready,” he said by way of greeting. “Beds are set up the way you recommended.”

“Thanks, Emile,” Thomas replied with a smile.

Emile sat down on the chair by his desk and wheeled it towards Thomas and Virgil. “Hey, there,” he said softly. Virgil stared at him and trembled, but didn’t reply. Emile seemed to accept this, and smiled.

“I know you must be feeling pretty uncomfortable right now, so I’ll get to the point quickly. Thomas and I have discussed a few methods to help you stay relatively calm while you get the vaccines, and I want to talk to you about what I think best option is. Is that okay?”

Virgil made a vague, whimper-like noise, but nodded. Thomas gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay,” Emile continued. “The plan is to give you a mild sedative through a mask. It’ll keep you calm, and make you a bit sleepy, but you’ll most likely stay awake. It’ll significantly decrease the pain and fear the vaccines would cause. We’ll get you either laying down, leaning against Thomas, or sitting in his lap – whichever makes you most comfortable – so I can administer the vaccines, and then you can sleep off the sedative in the back room.” He gestured to the door he had come through with his thumb.

Virgil blinked. He looked simultaneously grateful and uncomfortable. “Is it… Okay? To go to all that trouble for me?” Thomas let go of his hand, and wrapped his arm around him in a side hug.

“Of course it’s okay,” he said. “If it’ll make you feel safer, I’m willing to do just about anything.”

Virgil’s face reddened slightly at that, but he smiled. “… Thanks.”

Thomas tightened the hug for a moment before pulling back slightly. “Do you want to go first and do it now, or do you want one of the others to go first?”

Virgil looked nervous again. “Uhm…”

“I think you’ll feel better if you get it over and done with, yeah? Like ripping off a Band-Aid.” He smiled as Virgil huffed out a laugh.

“… Y-yeah… Yeah, okay. I’ll, uh, go first…” He gazed down at his hands and fidgeted. “Uhm…”

Thomas stood up, and tapped Virgil’s knee. “Stand up,” he murmured softly. He helped Virgil down from the bed, and turned to Emile. “Can we get this turned into an armchair or something?”

Emile nodded and snapped his fingers. The bed was replaced with a plush, dark beige armchair. Thomas sat down on it, and guided Virgil so he was sitting sideways on his lap, his left side facing Emile. Virgil looked supremely uncomfortable for a moment, before relaxing into Thomas’ hold. “This okay?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah.”

Thomas rubbed his back, and Emile stood up. “I’m gonna go get everything. Sit tight for a bit.” He glanced at Virgil, then locked eyes with Thomas. _‘Jacket’_ he mouthed, and Thomas understood. Emile left the room, and silence enveloped them for a short while. Thomas kissed the top of Virgil’s head.

“We’re gonna have to get your jacket off at some point,” he said, and Virgil tensed. “It’s alright,” he quickly reassured. “You might not be too amicable to moving once the sedative kicks in, though, so it’ll be better to do it beforehand.”

A strained noise escaped Virgil, but he sat up slightly, and allowed Thomas to help him get the jacket off. Thomas folded it and gave it to Virgil, who hugged it to his chest. Thomas watched as he anxiously fiddled with the strings. 

“Virge...” Virgil’s head snapped up and he looked at Thomas with uncertain eyes. “Breathe, Virgil.”

Virgil sucked in a breath, and shuddered. “Thomas, I don’t—can’t—” He blinked rapidly, and his eyes shone with tears threatening to fall. 

“Hey, hey,” Thomas shushed him, and wrapped him in a tight hug. “It’s okay, Virgil. You’re gonna be okay.”

Virgil pressed his face into Thomas’ shirt. “...’m scared...” He mumbled into the fabric. 

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared.” He slowly rocked back and forth, and Virgil closed his eyes. “The sedative is gonna help you relax, though. Just hang on till then.”

A moment later, Emile re-entered the room, wheeling a small machine attached to a mask, and a tray holding a bowl, two syringes, sterile wipes, cotton balls, Band-Aids, a packet of stickers, and a bag of chewy candy. Virgil flinched at the sight of it all. 

“How’re you feeling, Virgil?” Emile asked as he sat back down in front of them.

Virgil shrunk back against Thomas’ chest, and hid his face behind his jacket. Thomas and Emile frowned. “Can you tell us what’s bothering you, Virgil?” Thomas asked.

Virgil shook his head. “‘s nothing,” he said quietly. “I’m just scared.”

Thomas rubbed his back, and Emile reached for the mask. “Alright,” he said. “Can you lower your jacket a little so we can get the mask on you?”

Virgil twitched, but slowly complied. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps. He balked as the mask came into view, and shoved Emile’s hand away. Mortified with himself, he bowed his head, and stifled a sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Virgil.” Virgil’s eyes darted to Thomas. “Look at me,” Thomas commanded softly. “Don’t look anywhere else, or focus on anything else. You’re looking at me, okay?”

Virgil sniffled. “... O-okay.”

“Okay. Take a deep breath in.”

Virgil complied. 

“And out.”

Virgil shakily exhaled. Emile came forward with the mask again, and Virgil tried to look at him, but Thomas tapped his forehead to keep his attention. 

“No, no. You’re looking at me, remember? Nothing else but me. Take a deep breath in.”

Thomas guided Virgil into taking slow, deep breaths, and Emile managed to get the mask over his nose and mouth. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he trembled as Emile held the mask in place, but he didn’t look away from Thomas. Thomas squeezed his hand. “You’re doing great, Virgil,” he praised quietly. “Just keep breathing.”

Soon enough, Virgil began to relax as the sedative took hold. His breathing became less forced, and his eyes glazed over. Emile fixed the mask in place with the elastic band attached to it. 

“That should do it,” he sighed. 

“Thanks again,” Thomas said quietly as he shifted Virgil slightly into a more comfortable position. “I know this isn’t usually done.”

“I wouldn’t be a very good doctor if I didn’t try to adapt to a patient’s needs.” Emile shook his head and smiled. He picked up the packet of sterile wipes. “Lift up his sleeve a bit for me.”

Thomas rolled up Virgil’s sleeve with one hand, and rubbed his back with the other. “How’re you doing, Virge?” 

Virgil blinked slowly, and sighed. “... Mmh... M’okay,” came the soft reply. 

“That’s good. If you start feeling not so okay, let us know, alright?”

“... ‘kay...”

“Alright.” Inside the packet of sterile wipes, were smaller packets of sterile wipes, and Emile dumped them into the bowl before picking up his clipboard. “So, for my records, Psethocecimea is going in the left deltoid, and Blanks in the right.” He made a note on the clipboard, and dropped it at his feet. Then he picked up one of the sterile wipes packets and ripped it open. He gently cleaned Virgil’s shoulder with it, before reaching for the syringe labelled _‘Psethocecimea’._ “Make sure you’re holding him,” Emile warned as he took the safety cap off the needle. “This one is the more painful of the two, and he might still try to move away from it.”

Thomas tightened his hold around Virgil, and held one of the anxious Side’s hands in each of his own. Virgil didn’t react, and Thomas hoped he would remain so docile in the minutes to come.

“Virgil,” Emile said softly, “I’m going to administer the first vaccine now, okay?” Virgil spared him a lazy glance, and hummed quietly. “It’s going to sting a bit for a few seconds, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” Virgil nodded, and rest his head against Thomas’ chest.

Emile lightly squeezed Virgil’s shoulder. “Alright. One, two, three—” He slid the needle in, and slowly pushed down on the plunger. Virgil frowned slightly and let out a quiet whine, but was quickly placated when Thomas stroked his knuckles.

“Good job, Virgil,” he whispered. “You’re doing great, just hold still.”

“It’s a pretty thick solution,” Emile commented idly. “It’s uncomfortable, but ultimately better for the patient to inject thicker substances over a thirty-second period, as opposed to as quickly as possible.” He chuckled. “In case you ever feel like becoming a doctor.”

Thomas snorted. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to YouTube.”

Emile took the needle out and replaced it with a cotton ball. “Hold that there for me,” he said as he disposed of the needle and reached for the box of Band-Aids. Thomas held the cotton ball in place, and squeezed Virgil’s hand.

“That’s one done, Virge.” He kissed the top of Virgil’s head. “You did it.”

“Yay…” Virgil mumbled. He wiggled in place, like he was trying to dance, and Thomas let out a quiet, startled laugh.

Emile grinned and shook his head in amusement. He took the cotton ball from Thomas, and gently placed the Band-Aid over the injection site. “Alright, flip him ‘round, so I can do the other one.”

Thomas put his arm under Virgil’s knees, and spun him so his right side was facing Emile.

“Whee…” Virgil mumbled again, and Thomas’ face went red with the effort of not laughing.

“You having fun there, Virgil?”

“Mmh… I want apple juice.”

“… Noted,” Thomas giggled. “We’ll get you some apple juice in a little while.” He turned to Emile. “This stuff is making him delirious.”

Emile smiled as he ripped open another sterile wipe. “It’s not a very common reaction to the medication I gave him, but it’s always a treat when it shows up. I once had Roman in here to get stitches after a run-in with a Sphinx, and he was so convinced that my computer was a cotton-candy sheep, it actually _became_ a cotton-candy sheep.” Thomas lifted up Virgil’s sleeve so Emile could clean it with the wipe. “Let it be known to all,” the doctor continued. “A delirious Creativity _will_ turn your electronics into food.”

“Princey fights shit too much…” Virgil yawned. “He needs a nap.”

“I think you need a nap,” Thomas replied.

Emile picked up the second syringe and uncapped the needle. “I’m administering the second vaccine now, Virgil,” he said. “Hold still for me.” Like before, he lightly squeezed Virgil’s shoulder and slid the needle in. Virgil blinked slowly, but otherwise didn’t react.

“I wonder if it’s gonna be this easy with the others,” Thomas remarked.

“I doubt it,” Emile replied. “But we can hope.” They lapsed into silence while Emile injected the medication. “Aright…” He said, as he removed the needle. “All done.” He put a cotton ball in place, and Thomas held it there while Emile opened another Band-Aid. Once the Band-Aid was placed, Emile reached for the packet of stickers. Thomas stifled a giggle.

“Do you want a sticker, Virgil?” Virgil blinked slowly and gazed and the proffered page of stickers. It contained mostly stars and smiley faces with text such as _‘you did it!’, ‘great job!’,_ and _‘congratulations!’._

“Why’re they all so happy?” Virgil muttered. “’s creepy.” Creepiness aside, Virgil clumsily pointed towards a purple smiley face, with the text _‘awesome!’_ on it. Emile smiled, and peeled the sticker off. He stuck it on the back of Virgil’s hand, and Virgil stared down at in in muted curiosity.

“I think we can get the mask off him now,” Emile said. “Get him into some pyjamas, and into bed.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Thomas responded, and Emile nodded.

“Alright, Virgil, we’re gonna get that mask off you, and let you sleep for a little while, okay?” Virgil nodded, so Emile turned the machine off, before reaching forward and gently sliding the mask off. Virgil yawned. “I’m gonna snap you into some pyjamas now, okay?”

Virgil nodded again, before mumbling something about sleep and elephants under his breath. Thomas and Emile grinned at each other. Emile snapped his fingers, and Virgil’s regular outfit was replaced with a pair of fluffy, light purple pyjamas. “You wanna go get him settled while I clean up and prepare for the next one?”

“Sure,” Thomas replied. He made sure he had Virgil safely bundled in his arms before standing with a quiet groan. “C’mon, Virge. Let’s get you to bed.” He walked through the door leading to the makeshift bedroom Emile had created behind his office. Six beds were placed in a circle around a heater, and Thomas headed to the one with purple pillows and a black weighted blanket. He gently lowered Virgil onto the bed, and draped the blanket over him.

Thomas sat down on the bed, and stroked his fingers through Virgil’s hair. The anxious Side looked seconds away from dozing off. “You did great, Virge,” he praised softly. “Was that as bad as you thought it would be?”

“… Nuh uh…”

Thomas smiled. “I’m glad.”

“… Thank you…” The words were spoken so quietly that Thomas almost missed them, but his smile widened.

“No problem, bud.” He leaned forward and kissed Virgil’s forehead, before standing up. “I’m gonna go sit with whoever goes next. Try and sleep for a bit, okay?”

“… ‘kay…” That said, Virgil’s eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a sigh as he fell asleep. Thomas took a moment to marvel at the fact that he’d never seen Virgil so relaxed in his life, before he shook himself and walked back into the office.


	2. Chapter Two - Janus

“So, who are we doing next?” Thomas asked as he walked into the room. Emile was fiddling with a larger tray of syringes, but looked up when Thomas spoke.

“I was thinking of putting their names into a random thing picker on the internet, and deciding that way.”

“That sounds like an amusing and quick way to do it,” Thomas said.

“I thought you might like it,” Emile laughed. He turned to his computer, and opened a new Google tab. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he scrolled through the options that searching ‘ _random thing picker’_ had yielded. “Found one! Okay…” He quickly typed in the names of the five remaining Sides, and received the names back in a random order. “So, we have Janus, Roman, Logan, Patton, Remus. That’s our order.”

Thomas nodded. “I’ll go out and let them know. Are you ready for me to bring Janus in?”

“Ready to go,” Emile confirmed.

“Alright.” Thomas walked out of the office and into the waiting room. The five Sides there looked up as he entered.

Patton frowned as he drew near and sat down on the table to face them. “Where’s Virgil?” He asked.

“Sleeping. Emile drugged him so he wouldn’t have an anxiety attack during the vaccinations.”

“Is he okay?”

Thomas smiled at Patton’s undying concern for his ‘dark, strange son’. “He’ll be fine, Patton.” Patton smiled back, relieved. “Anyway,” Thomas continued. “We didn’t know what order to put the rest of you in, so Emile shoved your names in a random thing picker online.”

“So professional,” Logan muttered. Patton and Roman giggled, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well. The other option was to have you verse each other in hand to hand combat, and the loser would go next.”

“What!?” Logan’s eyes bulged. “Thomas! That would be incredibly foolish and--” He cut himself off when he noticed everyone was laughing.

“Logan, buddy, that’s what we call a joke.” Roman giggled.

“Oh. Well, that makes marginally more sense.” The playful mood quickly diminished, however, at Logan’s next question. “So, what’s the order?”

“It’s—Uhm. Hang on,” Thomas cursed under his breath, realising he should have written it down or something, to ensure he didn’t forget. As it were, he merely turned, and shouted for Emile. “Emile! What’s the order?”

After a beat of silence, Emile poked his head out the door. “Janus, Roman, Logan, Patton, Remus.” He called back.

Thomas turned back to the others with a small, embarrassed grin. “That’s the order,” he said.

“Ooh, lucky last!” Remus cackled, though underneath the crazed smile, he didn’t _really_ look happy. Whether it was due to the knowledge that he’d be waiting around for a while, or something else, Thomas didn’t know. He turned to Janus, and Janus blinked at him.

“You ready to go in?” He asked.

Janus sighed lightly, and stood up. “I suppose so.”

“Good luck!” Remus called as they walked into the office. Janus flipped him the bird just before the door shut. He looked around the room and let out a tremulous breath. Thomas watched him in mild concern.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re a little bit not fine, though.”

Janus merely nodded. Thomas sighed, and gently took hold of his elbow, guiding him to the armchair. A split-second decision had Thomas sitting down first, and pulling Janus into his lap, left side facing outwards, just like he did with Virgil.

“Thomas, what-?”

“Hush. I did this with Virgil. I figured I may as well make it tradition.”

Janus blinked, and looked down, frowning. “Alright…”

Emile chose that moment to start paying attention to them. “Hello,” he greeted Janus with a small smile.

“Hello,” Janus replied back, a blank expression on his face.

Emile didn’t seem fazed by this. “Your outfit is gonna make this a bit difficult,” he said. “Would you be alright if I snapped you into something a little more comfortable and convenient?”

Janus looked like he wouldn’t be alright with that in the slightest. Thomas reached for his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “It’s just some short-sleeved pyjamas,” he murmured. “You’re gonna wanna be in them later, anyway. The main side effect from the vaccines is pretty intense drowsiness. We’ve got beds set up in the other room for you all, so you can sleep for a bit.”

Janus bit his lip, and squeezed Thomas’ hand, seemingly against his will, as he looked down at their joint hands in surprise and betrayal. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. After moment, he swallowed, and nodded slightly. “A-alright.”

Emile smiled gently, and snapped his fingers. Janus was quickly rid of his ‘evil villain’ outfit, and put in a set of fluffy, black-and gold-pyjamas. Without his hat and gloves, he looked… Smaller. Far less intimidating than usual, and it momentarily threw Thomas for a loop. Janus jumped slightly at the sudden change, and his brow creased with the onset of anxiety. Thomas rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“You’re okay,” he said softly. “You’re gonna be okay.” Janus nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. Emile nodded in satisfaction, and picked up a sterile wipe.

“Lift your sleeve up for me, please.” Janus froze at the command, so Thomas rolled up his sleeve for him.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked. Janus nodded his head vigorously, though the truth was fairly obvious to all in the room. Thomas put his hand on Janus’ chest, and felt the lying Side’s heart beat erratically. “You’re a bit scared,” he said softly. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Janus…” Janus shook, and Thomas pulled him into a hug. “I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time,” he said. “It might seem silly, but it’ll help. You’re gonna be okay.”

Janus drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It seemed to calm him enough to get his disinterested mask back in place. He nodded. Thomas pulled each of his hands into his own and lightly squeezed them. Then, Emile leaned forward to clean Janus’ shoulder with a sterile wipe.

Janus stared straight ahead, face carefully blank, though he twitched very subtly when Emile picked up the first syringe and uncapped the needle.

“You’re a little tense,” Emile commented casually, seemingly trying to put Janus at ease. “Can you relax your arm a little, please?” He gently stroked his thumb and forefinger up and down Janus’ shoulder, encouraging him to relax. Slowly, Janus did so. “That’s it,” Emile praised quietly. “Alright. This first vaccine is for Psethocecimea. It’s going to sting for about three seconds, and then you’ll feel a stinging-burning sensation for thirty seconds while the medication is injected.”

Janus didn’t look thrilled to hear that. In fact, he was now trembling lightly. Thomas squeezed his hand, and kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “This is gonna suck for a little while, but you’ll be okay. Just squeeze my hand when it hurts.”

“Okay…”

Emile lightly squeezed Janus’ shoulder, and raised the syringe. “Alright, on three, now. One, two, three—” Janus tensed as the needle went in, and he inhaled sharply. “Relax, Janus,” Emile softly commanded. “It’ll hurt more if you’re tense.”

Janus screwed his eyes tightly shut, and squeezed Thomas’ hand in something just shy of a death-grip. His breaths came out in short, shaky pants. As Emile started to slowly push down on the plunger, Janus let out a quiet whimper. Thomas stroked his knuckles, hoping it would provide some comfort. Another whimper broke free, and tears began to slowly slip from his eyes.

I know, I know,” Thomas cooed as Janus hiccuped. “Try and breathe, Jan. You’re okay.”

“I-it-! Ow-!” Janus cried quietly, and Thomas’ heart ached in sympathy.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just hang on a little longer. It’ll be over soon.” Janus hiccuped and coughed, and Thomas lightly pat his back. “Try and take a deep breath, Janus, come on.”

Janus gave an aborted attempt at a deep breath, and then turned his head and sobbed into Thomas’s shirt. A seconds later, Emile took the needle out, and gave Thomas a cotton ball to hold in place. “It’s done,” Thomas soothed. “You’re okay, Janus. That one’s done.” He rocked slowly back and forth as Janus’ sobs died down. Emile took the cotton ball from Thomas, and replaced it with a Band-Aid.

Thomas rubbed Janus’ back, and eventually his sniffling faded. “You okay, Jan?” He asked softly. Janus hesitated before giving a single, small nod. He sat up and wiped his eyes with loosely balled fists.

“Can we get you sitting on your other side, so we can do the next one?” Emile asked. Janus flinched, and sucked in a breath.

“N-no-!” He trembled, wide-eyed. He suddenly looked like he was planning to jump up and run from the room, so Thomas gently wrapped his arms around him, and hugged him.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Calm down, Janus.” Janus whimpered. His eyes were tense, and his posture reeked of mounting stress. “Janus,” Thomas murmured with a bit more intensity. “Look at me.” Janus looked at Thomas, and for a moment Thomas struggled to reconcile this Janus with the one who happily told him to push people down a flight of stairs. Trembling, lips twitching downward, shaky, shallow breaths; he looked moments away from an anxiety attack.

“Please.” His voice cracked on the word. “Please, no more. I don’t—I don’t want it, please.”

Thomas sighed, and pulled him close for another hug. He gazed at Emile over Janus’ head, and Emile looked back, troubled. “Sedative?” The doctor suggested softly.

“Could do,” Thomas agreed. He shifted so he could speak quietly in Janus’ ear. The Side in question shivered, and stared down at his hands, frowning. “Hey,” Janus startled, and turned slightly to look at him. “Remember earlier, how I said we gave Virgil some medicine to help calm him down?”

“Yeah…”

“Is it okay if we give some to you?” He rubbed Janus’ back. “You breathe it in through a mask,” He added. “It doesn’t hurt.” Janus shifted his gaze to Emile, and Emile smiled.

“It’s perfectly safe,” he assured. “I’m sorry we didn’t offer it to you earlier. If I’d known the vaccine would affect you so badly, I would have mentioned it.”

Janus sniffled. “s’okay.”

“Do you want the sedative?”

“Okay…”

“Alright.” Emile stood up, and walked to the corner of the room, where’d he’d left the mask and machine. He wheeled it over to them and sat back down, pulling off the mask from where it was hanging. Janus stared at it distrustfully. “Let’s get you sitting on your other side first, okay?” Emile said gently. “Then I’ll give you the mask, okay?”

Janus nodded, and Thomas helped him turn around. His movements were uncoordinated and shaky. Emile waited until he was situated, then hesitated for a moment. He reached out, and offered the mask to Janus. “Do you wanna hold that over your nose and mouth for me?” Janus looked at the mask, looked at Emile, and looked at Thomas, before nodding.

“Okay.” He put the mask in place, and held it there limply.

“Make sure there’s no airgaps,” Emile said, “or it won’t be as effective.”

“Let me help,” Thomas murmured, and he put his own hand on top of Janus’. Janus leaned his head on Thomas’ chest, and seemed to be trying to focus on breathing evenly. “That’s it.”

They lapsed into silence, and as the sedative took hold, Janus stopped trembling, and closed his eyes. Thomas ran his fingers through Janus’ hair, and sighed. “Well, that could have gone better.”

Emile hummed. “I don’t recall you ever having such a strong negative reaction to vaccinations in the past,” he mused.

“Yeah, but these guys aren’t me,” Thomas pointed out. “They’re part of me, but they’ve had their own lives to live through.”

“Indeed.” They both turned their eyes to Janus, who was now resting quietly.

“You still awake, Jan?” A few seconds passed, and Janus hummed quietly, but didn’t open his eyes. Thomas smiled, and fixed the mask in place with the elastic strap. “Looks like we’re good to go,” he said as he pulled up Janus’ sleeve. Emile nodded, and readied an alcohol wipe.

“I’m thinking about offering the sedative to the others beforehand,” he said as he worked. “The problem is, I don’t know how, if at all, all of them being drugged will affect you.”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Thomas replied.

“Alright.” He picked up the second syringe and uncapped it. “Janus, I’m administering the second vaccine now, okay?” Janus blearily blinked his eyes open for a short moment.

“’m’kay…”

Thomas squeezed his hand gently as Emile inserted the needle. Janus groaned quietly, but didn’t seem very bothered. “Good job, Jan,” Thomas whispered. “It’s okay.”

The second vaccine was administered with much less fanfare than the first, and soon, Emile putting a Band-Aid on, and gently taking off the mask. He pushed it back to the corner of the room. “If we can avoid using it, we should,” he said. “They’re gonna feel nauseous when it starts wearing off. Make sure Virgil and Janus drink plenty of water later.”

“Will do,” Thomas replied as he hoisted Janus into his arms. “Let’s get you to bed, silly snake.”

“… Mmh… Don’… Padra—Panty… Pantramise me…” Janus mumbled.

“Patronise?”

“Yeah, tha’…”

Thomas chuckled softly. “Alright.” He lowered Janus into a sitting position on the bed with a yellow electric blanket on it, and picked up the cup on the nightstand. “Hey, drink some water for me, and then you can sleep, okay?” He helped Janus hold the cup as he sleepily took a few sips from it, and then guided him into laying down. He gently stroked his fingers across Janus’ scales and hummed a slow, random tune under his breath. Soon enough, Janus’ breath evened out in sleep.

He smiled, and made sure Janus was properly tucked in before walking back into the office to repeat the process with Roman.


	3. Chapter Three - Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the beginning of this chapter definitely isn't because i forgot to give janus a sticker last chapter. how dare you assume such a thing.
> 
> also apparently it's roman's birthday today? awkward. sorry, roman.
> 
> anyway this pile of plotless angst-fluff fest is now the longest fic i've ever written, and i don't know how to feel about that.

Emile stopped him as he walked back into the office. “I forgot to offer Janus a sticker,” he said, as he held out a yellow smiley face with the words _‘Super Trooper!’_ on it. “Go give that to him.” Thomas snorted, but took the sticker.

“He’s sleeping, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate the sentiment when he wakes,” Thomas replied, and they both laughed. In truth, Janus would likely be mortified. Thomas turned and snuck back into the makeshift bedroom. He carefully placed the sticker on the back of Janus’ hand, and quickly made his way out the room again.

He nodded to Emile as he walked back into the office, and made a beeline for the waiting room.

“I return!” He announced, to half-hearted smiles from Roman and Patton, and an eyeroll from Logan. “Come on, guys,” he said. “Look alive! We’re almost halfway there!”

Patton let out a louder giggle at that. Thomas turned to Roman. “Ready?” He asked. “I’m afraid I don’t have a pumpkin-made chariot, but nonetheless, I would like to get this done by midnight.” Roman snorted, and stood up.

“Good luck with your doom, Roman!” Remus giggled, and Roman glared at him.

“Shut up.”

“I wonder if you’ll scream,” Remus continued. “Ooh, how long is the needle? Is it gonna go right through your arm? I bet it really hurts! Like jumping in a pool of acid, or being wacked by thousands of tiny Morningstars! Maybe you’ll bleed all over the floor and we’ll all slip on it and die! Or maybe you’ll cry so much the building floods, and we’ll drown! Oh, but what if--!”

“Remus, that is more than enough.” Logan rolled up one of the pamphlets and hit Remus over the head with it. Remus glared at him, but stopped talking. Roman had paled slightly during the speech, and one hand hovered over his sword, while the other clutched his sash tightly. Thomas put a steadying hand on his arm.

“Don’t listen to him,” Thomas said quietly, as he gently pulled Roman from the room. He was trying to avoid someone getting bludgeoned or impaled today, thanks. “You know he’s just trying to wind you up.”

Roman swallowed. “Yeah… Right.”

“Feeling alright?”

“I was fine until Remus started talking.” Thomas smiled sympathetically.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Ro. Emile is very good at his job.” Roman nodded. They entered the office, and Thomas closed the door behind them. Emile took one look at Roman and frowned.

“Everything okay?”

“Remus said some… Unsettling things,” Thomas said, and Emile nodded in understanding.

“I see.”

Thomas led Roman to the armchair, and keeping with the tradition he was forming, sat Roman on his lap. To Thomas’ mild surprise, Roman accepted this with grace, and a small smile. “A throne fit for a prince,” he exclaimed as he dramatically raised his hands. Thomas laughed.

“Glad you think so.”

Emile grinned at the two of them. “Roman, can we get you into some short-sleeved pyjamas? You guys aren’t making this easy on me with your long-sleeved casual clothing.” Roman sent him a mock-offended look, before he giggled.

“Ooh, ooh, can I do it? It’ll look cool!” He exclaimed.

“So long as it also looks _convenient,”_ Emile replied, “go right ahead.”

Roman closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, before snapping his fingers. “There!” He said happily, and twisted to show Thomas. The sleeves cut off just below his emblem, and the ‘sash’ was decorated with little gold crowns, stars, and hearts. The bottoms had the same pattern as the sash. Thomas smiled.

“That looks amazing, Roman!”

Roman squeed. “Thanks! I was gonna show it to you some other time, but now works well, too!”

“Looking snazzy, my prince,” Emile commented dryly. “So, Janus got a little panicked after the first vaccine, and we ended up giving him the same thing we gave Virgil, to help him calm down. Do you want it, too, or do you think you’ll be okay without it?”

Roman grimaced. “Is that the same stuff that made me turn your computer into a cotton-candy sheep a while back?”

“Yeah.”

Roman hummed. “Uhm, no thanks. I’ll brave this visit with valour,” he announced dramatically, and then, quieter, “and hopefully full control of my creative abilities.”

Emile snorted. “Yes, _hopefully._ If I learnt one thing from that fiasco, it was to back-up my documents.”

“Hey, I changed it back later!”

“Yeah, but all the documents from that day were gone.”

Roman huffed, and crossed his arms. Then he giggled. “Cotton-candy sheep. It was a fun idea, though. I ended up creating a whole herd of them and setting them loose in the field behind my castle.”

“They sound fun,” Thomas said. “Show me them later?”

Roman grinned. “Sure!”

“Alright, then.” Emile clapped his hands once, and reached for a sterile wipe. “Sleeve up, please.”

Roman’s grin faltered ever-so-slightly, but he dutifully pulled his rolled his sleeve up. Thomas grabbed each of his hands in his own when he was done, and stroked his knuckles. Roman swallowed and squeezed his hand as Emile cleaned his shoulder with the wipe. “You okay?” Thomas asked softly.

Roman sighed. “Yeah, just… Still thinking about what Remus said. I guess I’m… A little nervous. Maybe. Just a little bit.” Thomas smiled, and kissed the top of his head.

“You’re allowed to be nervous, Ro. It’s okay.”

Roman bit his lip. “What if I scream?” He asked.

“You’re allowed to scream.”

“What if I cry so much we all drown?”

Emile chuckled softly. “I’m not sure that’s possible outside of cartoons, Roman.”

“Although I wouldn’t put it past you to try,” Thomas added. “Please don’t actually try that.” He was rewarded with a short giggle from Roman, who looked slightly less stressed.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“And it’s okay if you get a bit upset. No one’s gonna judge you.”

Roman looked down. “Remus would.”

“Remus isn’t here, and he doesn’t have to know.” Thomas smoothed Roman’s hair back, and the creative Side sighed, but relaxed into the touch.

Emile picked up the syringe. “Are you ready, Roman?” He asked gently.

Roman took a breath, and blew it out slowly. He closed his eyes and leaned on Thomas. “Yeah… I’m ready.” Thomas squeezed his hand.

“Alright. Keep still and relaxed for me,” Emile murmured. “One, two, three—” He inserted the needle, and Roman hissed, his hand spasming in Thomas’. “Ouch,” he whispered.

“You’re doing good, Ro,” Thomas said encouragingly. “Hang on.” Roman grunted quietly.

“It’s—Ow—Not as bad as being slapped by a Sphinx,” Roman grit out. “Def-Definitely not the greatest, though.” His voice trembled towards the end, and Thomas kissed his head again. Roman sniffled, and took his right hand out of Thomas’ to rub at his eyes. Thomas reached up to pull the hand back down again, and rubbed circles into his palm.

“It’s okay, Ro. It’ll be over soon.” Roman nodded, and sighed shakily. A very soft whimper escaped him, and he looked about to break, but then Emile announced it was done, and he sagged in relief.

“That one’s done, Roman. Are you okay?” Emile asked as he placed a Band-Aid.

Roman was silent for a moment as he worked to get his breathing under control, then he swallowed hesitantly, and nodded. “I… Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” His voice shook slightly, but he managed a small smile. “I’m okay.”

Thomas hugged him gently, and rocked slowly back and forth. “You’re so brave,” he said. Roman sniffled, but let out a short, soft laugh.

“I’m a prince, Thomas. Bravery is in the job description.”

A crinkling noise got their attention, and they looked up to see Emile offering the bag of lollies towards them. “I forgot I took these with me,” he said. “Might help you feel better?” Roman rolled his eyes slightly, but took two strawberry lollies out of the bag. Thomas took a mint lolly and popped it in his mouth to suck on.

They sat in silence for a moment. Roman ate the one lolly, and squished the other between his fingers. “I made a mess,” he announced, and Thomas didn’t know if he should laugh or groan.

“Why would you do that?” He asked.

Roman shrugged, and licked the abused candy off his fingers. “I was feeling spontaneous.” Thomas did snort then, and Emile handed Roman one of the sterile wipes so he could clean his fingers.

“Are you ready to continue, then?” Emile asked, as he took the wipe back and threw it in the bin.

“I guess so.” Thomas helped Roman swivel in place, and pulled his right sleeve up. Emile reached for another sterile wipe, and Roman must have panicked for a moment, because he suddenly grabbed both of Thomas’ hands in a vice-like grip. He loosened his hold very quickly, however, with a murmured apology. Thomas squeezed his hands reassuringly.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I just… Panicked for a sec there.” He let out a quiet, shaky breath as Emile cleaned his shoulder and picked up the syringe.

“It’s okay, Ro. Deep breaths, remember?”

“Yeah…” Roman closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Emile uncapped the needle. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, one—” Roman tensed, and Emile stopped.

“Relax, Roman.”

Roman swung his legs over the side of the chair, trying to rid himself of excess energy and anxiety. “Yeah. Sorry.” He forced himself to loosen up. “I’m okay.”

“Squeeze my hand, Ro,” Thomas recommended softly, and Roman complied.

“Okay?” Emile asked. Roman nodded. “Okay. One, two, three—”

Roman gasped quietly, and squeezed Thomas’ hand. He closed his eyes, and clenched his teeth. His breathing picked up slightly, but he stayed mostly quiet. “Doing okay?” Thomas asked, and Roman hummed a short, strained affirmative.

“It’s almost done,” Emile soothed. Roman whimpered a soft, keening sound, and his breath hitched. He stilled, and seemed to be holding back. Thomas ran his thumb along the length of Roman’s hands.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know. It’s okay, Ro. You’re allowed to be upset. It’s okay.” Roman’s breath hitched again, and he blinked out a few tears. A moment later, Emile took the needle out and Roman sniffled.

“All done,” Emile said. He pressed down on the injection site with a cotton ball, and guided Thomas’ hand up to hold it in place. “I’m gonna get you a tissue, hang on,” he said softly. He went to his desk and picked up a box of tissues, and offered it to Roman. Roman’s hand trembled as he took one and pressed it to his eyes. While he was doing that, Emile replaced the cotton ball with a Band-Aid.

Thomas rubbed Roman’s back gently, and watched him compose himself. “You did good, bud,” he said, and Roman sniffled again. “It’s okay. Do you want a hug?” He offered. Roman nodded, and buried his face in Thomas’ chest. Thomas wrapped his arms around him, and slowly rocked back and forth. “You’re okay, Ro.” Roman took a minute to calm himself down, before he sighed and sat up.

“I’m okay.” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “I’m okay now.”

“I’m glad,” Thomas replied.

“The first one was worse,” Roman said as he rubbed his eyes. “It was like, a stinging-burning _bitch_ of a sensation. But the second one was _cold,_ and I dunno… It was harder to deal with for some reason.”

“I’m sorry.” Thomas hugged him again, and Roman gave him a small smile. “It’s all done now, though.”

“Sticker?” Emile offered, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“We gave the other two a sticker,” Emile said, and pushed the page towards him. Roman laughed.

“Oh, okay, then.” He peeled off a gold star with the words _‘I’m amazing!’_ on it, and stuck it on top of one of the stars on his pyjama sash. He giggled. “It’s childish, and I love it.”

Emile smiled. “I’m glad. I was a little worried you’d find it patronising.”

“You can never patronise me with stickers,” Roman said. “Stickers bring,” he paused to yawn, “joy to people of all ages!”

“The vaccines are gonna make you pretty sleepy,” Emile said gently. “We’ve got beds in the other room so you can rest for a while.” Roman nodded through another yawn, and yelped when Thomas suddenly stood up and hoisted him into his arms.

“What are you-!?” He squeaked in alarm.

“I’m taking you to bed,” Thomas grinned. “What do you think of my prince hold?”

“It’s, uhm, very princely,” Roman replied uncertainly, as he grasped Thomas’ shoulder for balance. “Please don’t drop me.” Thomas laughed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He carried Roman swiftly, but quietly, into the bedroom, and set him down carefully on the bed with frilly red and gold covers. Roman looked relieved to be back on solid ground. He ran his fingers through the blanket, admiring the softness. He blinked rapidly, and yawned again.

“Doc said something about sleepy?” He mumbled, and Thomas laughed quietly. He pushed Roman backwards until the creative Side was laying down, and tucked him in.

“Yeah. Try and sleep for a bit. It’ll make you feel better.”

Roman gazed at the ceiling, and raised a hand to trace – _Something –_ in the air. A moment later, the ceiling shimmered and was replaced with a canopy of stars. “Pretty…” He mumbled.

Thomas stared at the new ceiling in amazement, before snorting, and pushing Roman’s arm back under the blanket. “Sleep, Roman. You can create later.”

“I gotta… Show you the, uhm… The… Sleep… Sheep…” His eyes slipped closed as Thomas worked to not laugh too loudly. He bent down to kiss Roman’s forehead, and sighed.

“Sleep well, Princey.” He walked back into the office, and clapped his hands together. “Who was next?” He asked, turning to Emile. Emile checked the list.

“Logan,” he replied.

“Right. On with the show.” That said, he walked back into the waiting room.


	4. Chapter Four - Logan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a couple of days i was lazy
> 
> also trigger warning i guess because logan almost throws up

“Remus, if the next words out of your mouth are anything other than ‘I’m sorry’, you will find yourself eating nothing but carrots for the next week. Do you understand?”

Thomas entered the waiting room to hear Logan’s strained ranting, and Remus’ groan.

“Bluh, you’re no fun, nerd! Aren’t you the least bit curious? I just want to see if—”

“ _No,_ I am _not_ the _least bit curious,”_ Logan exhaled, and visibly forced down his frustration. “This conversation is vile, and also over. Enough.” Then he turned and saw Thomas. “Oh, thank god. Please get me out of this situation, Thomas. I simply cannot stand to be here a moment longer.”

“What’s going on?”

Remus grinned. “Well, you see, after Bro-Ro dearest had such a delectable reaction to my musings, I thought I’d up the game a little, and see what Nerd and Daddy would do if I—”

“ _Remus!”_ Came the combined shouts of Logan and Patton.

“Alright, alright.” Thomas put his hands up placatingly. “Remus, I get that you find that stuff funny, but other people really don’t, and instead of being mean and tormenting them with things that scare and upset them, it’s better to accept that you won’t always agree, and find something to talk about that you both enjoy.” Remus grumbled, but looked thoughtful, so Thomas took it as a win. “Lo, ready to go?”

Logan nodded, and followed Thomas into the office.

“What was Remus saying?” He asked as he closed the door. Logan shuddered.

“It doesn’t bare repeating.”

“… Alright.” If Logan didn’t want to say it, Thomas probably didn’t want to hear it. He guided Logan to the armchair, and sat him on his lap, like he had with the others. Logan’s face heated, and he turned to frown at him.

“Why did you do that?”

“I’ve done it with the others. It’s tradition.”

“It’s demeaning,” Logan muttered, but he made no effort to move. He fidgeted with his tie for a moment before seemingly forcing his hands to remain still in his lap. Thomas poked his side, and Logan jumped. “What?”

“You okay?”

“I—Yes. I’m fine.”

At that point, Emile, who had been busy typing away at his computer, spun around to face them. “More than half-way there!” He cheered, and grinned at them. Thomas chucked.

“I think I’m gonna need a nap myself by then end of it.”

Emile wheeled the chair closer, and gave Logan a once-over. “Do you how do?”

“Um?” Logan looked supremely confused for a moment, before his eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh. That one, uh, SpongeBob episode.”

Emile giggled. “Yes, indeed. Anyway, pyjamas before or after?”

“Before…?” Logan, confused once more, turned to Thomas for clarification.

“The vaccines are gonna make you pretty sleepy, so we’ve got beds in the other room so you can all sleep for a bit after,” Thomas explained. “Janus and Roman had long-sleeved clothes, so we’ve put them in pyjamas beforehand to make things easier and more comfortable for them.”

“Oh. Well…” Logan didn’t seem to have a response to that. Thomas rubbed his back gently, and Logan twitched, but leaned into the touch.

“I think you’ll prefer the pyjamas. Is that okay?” He asked softly.

Logan sighed quietly. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Alright.” Emile snapped his fingers, and Logan’s outfit was replaced with a space-themed pyjama shirt and bottoms. Logan shifted.

“I… Forgot I owned these,” he murmured.

“Do you want a different set?” Emile asked.

“… No. These are fine.”

“Alright. Next order of business, then,” Emile continued. “We gave Virgil and Janus a mild sedative to help them stay calm during the vaccines. Do you want it, too, or do you think you’ll be okay without it?”

Logan stared at him, as if mildly insulted by the question. “I think I’ll be fine without it,” he said.

“Alright. Sleeve up for me, please.” Logan hesitantly complied, then brough both hands back to his lap and balled them into fists. He took a deep breath, and shuddered.

“Lo?” Thomas gently eased his hands open so he could hold them. Logan’s grip was tight, but he didn’t respond, so Thomas tried again. “What’s wrong?” Logan shuddered again.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“Lo—”

“I am… Experiencing… Unease.” Logan drew in a breath, and let it out in a huff. “It’s illogical. There is nothing to be… Afraid of, and yet…”

“You’re a little scared,” Thomas finished. “That’s okay.”

“It’s childish and illogical.”

“Totally normal,” Thomas countered.

“I am an adult. I should not—” Logan cut himself off and flinched when cleaned his shoulder with a sterile wipe. Emile stopped, and frowned in concern.

“Logan, maybe we should give you the—”

“ _No,”_ Logan insisted. “I’m _fine.”_

Emile raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

Logan sighed, a strained, aggravated noise. “I apologise. I’m not… I don’t—”

“it’s okay, Lo.” Thomas stroked his knuckles. “We want to make this as easy for you as possible,” he said softly. “So one more time – Do you want the sedative?”

Logan hesitated for a long moment. “… No,” he eventually whispered.

“Alright. That’s okay.” Thomas shifted Logan so he was more comfortably set against him, and guided his head to rest on Thomas’ shoulder. Logan fought him for a moment, before seemingly thinking better of it, and letting Thomas position him. Thomas grabbed each of his hands, and gently held them in his own. “Comfy?”

Logan swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good. Close your eyes.”

“What-?” Logan made to sit up, but Thomas pressed his lips to the top of Logan’s head.

“Trust me?” He asked softly, and Logan stilled.

“… Okay.”

Logan hesitantly closed his eyes, and let out a shaky breath. “Focus on four-seven-eight,” Thomas said quietly, “and keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.” They waited for Logan to complete two rounds of the exercise, before Emile picked up a new sterile wipe.

“Logan, I’m going to clean you arm again,” Emile said as he ripped open the packet.

“Okay.”

“Slow your breathing,” Thomas murmured when he noticed Logan beginning to panic again. Logan nodded, and continued with the exercise. Thomas quietly counted him through the breathing, as Emile picked up the first syringe.

“You got him?” He asked.

Thomas squeezed Logan’s hands, and Logan squeezed back. “I got him.”

“Alright. Logan, I’m going to administer the first vaccine now.” Logan’s hand spasmed in Thomas’, but he otherwise held still.

“Okay.”

“Try and stay relaxed for me.” Thomas stroked Logan’s knuckles as Emile began to count. “Alright. One, two, three—”

Logan flinched, and his breathing stuttered. “It’s okay,” Thomas murmured soothingly. “Keep breathing, bud. You’re gonna be okay.” Logan’s hands shook, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. The breathing exercise was forgotten as he seemingly struggled not to whimper or cry.

Thomas blew softly on his face, and Logan sucked in a sharp breath. He let out a short, soft cry, and opened his eyes to stare tearfully straight ahead. “it’s almost done, Lo. Hang on,” Thomas said. His words were greeted with a whimper.

A moment later, Emile took the needle out, and put a cotton ball in its’ place. “That one’s done, Logan. It’s okay.” Thomas held the cotton ball in place while Emile reached for a Band-Aid. Logan hiccupped when it was put on, and buried his head in Thomas’ chest, sniffling. Thomas hummed, and rubbed his back gently, hoping to help him calm down.

Eventually, Logan sat up, and took his glasses off so he could press his palms into his eyes. He let out a shuddering sigh. “Thomas, I feel…” Logan trailed off. He swayed slightly, and swallowed.

“What’s up, Lo?” Thomas gently pulled Logan’s hands away from his eyes, and Emile handed him a tissue, which Logan took gratefully.

“I feel… Dizzy,” Logan said softly, as he wiped his eyes with the tissue. Thomas looked to Emile for clarification.

“A bit of nausea and dizziness is one of the rarer side effects of that vaccine, though not usually this quickly,” Emile said, frowning. “I’m gonna get you some water. Sit tight for a couple minutes, and we’ll see if it gets any better.”

Emile left the room, presumably to get water. Thomas helped Logan ease himself back against Thomas, and rubbed his back slowly. “Are you feeling any nausea?”

“Uhm… A little, I think.” Logan rubbed his eyes again, before putting his glasses back on. “Mostly just, like… Light-headed, I suppose. Like my mind is trying to convince me that I’m floating.”

“Alright,” Thomas wrapped his arms around Logan, and hugged him gently. “Let’s get you back to four-seven-eight. Might help you feel better.” Logan nodded.

After a short time, Emile re-entered the room with a cup of cold water. “Sip on that,” he said quietly. “I need to ask you a few questions, alright?” He said, as he picked up his clipboard and a pen.

Look took a small sip of the water, and nodded. “Okay.”

“Are you feeling dizzy, or light-headed?”

“Yes.” Emile made a note on his file.

“Any nausea?”

“A little.”

“Headache?”

“… Mild.”

“Difficulty breathing?”

Logan took a slow breath in. “No.”

“Do you feel like your heart is racing?”

“No.”

“Sensitivity to light?”

“Uhm…” Logan looked at the ceiling light, and squinted, but shook his head. “… No.”

“Do you feel like you’re too hot, or too cold?”

“… No.”

Alright,” Emile dropped the clipboard at his feet, and wheeled his chair to his desk to pick up a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor. “Lean forward a bit for me,” he said as he put the tips in his ears. Logan leaned forward, and Thomas squeezed his hand as Emile pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back. “Slow, deep breath in, please.” Logan did so, albeit shakily.

“You’re still a bit shaky,” Emile noted. “Is that just nerves, or is there something else going on?”

Logan frowned, ever-unwilling to admit to emotions. “It’s… Just nerves, I think.”

“Alright.” Emile put the stethoscope down, and pointed at the cup. “Drink,” he commanded gently. He waited for Logan to drain the cup, before speaking again. “Flip to your other side, please. I don’t want to put the pressure cuff near the injection site.” Logan nodded, and Thomas helped him slowly spin around. Emile fixed the cuff on his arm, and turned the machine on. “This might be a little uncomfortable,” he warned softly.

Logan leaned against Thomas, closed his eyes and hummed. After a minute, the machine beeped, and Emile took the cuff off before checking the results. “Blood pressure is just a tad on the lower side,” he mused. “Are you feeling any better?”

“A bit,” Logan acknowledged.

Emile hummed. “I’m a little hesitant to give you the second vaccine now, regardless. It might be better to get you back in a couple hours, or even tomorrow. It’s up to you, though.”

Logan gazed into the empty cup. “I’d rather not have to wait,” he admitted softly. “But…” Thomas rubbed his back.

“What are you thinking, Lo?”

“Uhm…” He sighed. “Is it safe to do it now?”

“It’s safe,” Emile conceded, “but it might make you feel more ill.”

Logan rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Can I just do it now and get it over with?”

“You can. I want to keep you under observation for a few minutes afterwards, though.”

“Okay.”

“So, you want to do it now?”

“… Yeah.”

“Alright.” Emile took the cup from Logan and threw it away, before ripping open a new sterile wipe. “Sleeve up, then.” Logan pulled his sleeve up, then faltered.

“… Does it hurt?” He asked in a small voice. Emile smiled gently as he cleaned his shoulder.

“It’s not as bad as the first one,” he soothed. “Roman described it as ‘cold’, I believe.”

“Oh.”

Thomas grabbed his hands, and stroked his knuckles. “Squeeze my hand,” he said quietly. “You’ll be okay.” Logan nodded.

Emile picked up the second syringe, and turned to Logan. “If you start feeling like you’re going to be sick, or pass out, let me know immediately, okay?”

“Okay.”

Emile uncapped the needle. “Comfy?” Logan leaned his head on Thomas’ shoulder, and nodded. “Alright.” Logan closed his eyes and drew in a shallow breath. “One, two, three—”

Logan grimaced, and squeezed Thomas’ hand. “Breathe, Logan,” Emile softly reminded. Logan groaned, and paled slightly. He bit his lip to partially stifle a whimper. “Alright, Logan. It’s almost over.”

Thomas kissed his head. “Doing good, Lo. _Breathe,_ buddy.” Logan sucked in breath after shaky breath, and whimpered again. Tears slipped from his eyes, and he jolted, suddenly squeezing Thomas’ hand tighter. He groaned again.

“I don—don’t feel w-well,” he whispered.

“Alright, alright, hang on,” Emile murmured. The following seconds went by tensely. Emile took the needle out, and gave Thomas a cotton ball to hold in place, before he quickly turned to pick up his bin. He took out the half-full bag and replaced it with a new one in record speed. He got it to Logan just as the logical Side lurched, and gagged violently. Emile and Thomas watched him in concern.

Logan gagged again, but only his tears made it into the bin. He sniffled, and heaved a shuddering sigh. Thomas rubbed his back, and Emile gently put a Band-Aid on top of the cotton ball.

“Logan? I want to go get you some more water. Will you be okay if I leave for a moment?” Emile asked, and Logan gave a small nod. “Alright. I’ll be back soon.”

Logan gagged again, weaker this time, but still nothing came out, and he seemed to decide nothing would, because he pushed the bin to the floor, and leaned against Thomas. Thomas wrapped his arms around him, being mindful not to squeeze to tight, lest he make the nausea worse. Logan’s breath hitched, and he cried quietly. “I’m sorry, Lo,” Thomas murmured. Seeing Logan so miserable was heart-breaking. “Keep breathing. You’ll feel better soon.” Thomas sincerely hoped that was true.

Emile walked back into the room, carrying a cup of water and a small machine attached to a mask, similar to the one he had used for Virgil and Janus. He sat down, and handed the cup to Logan. “How are you feeling?” Logan’s response was a soft whimper, and Emile sighed. “Alright, take a few sips from that, and then I want you to breathe into this for a bit.” He gestured to the mask. “It’s just oxygen. It’ll help with the nausea.”

Logan sipped the water, and grimaced. His shook his head and pushed the cup back towards Emile. “Feel sick,” he mumbled. Emile took the cup back and placed it on the tray. He picked up the machine and turned it on.

“Take a couple deep breaths,” he said as he gently pressed the mask to Logan’s face. He looked at Thomas. “Can you hold that for me?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Thomas held the mask in place with one hand, and ran his fingers through Logan’s hair with the other. Emile picked up his clipboard.

“Logan, I need to run you through some questions again. Is that okay?”

Logan blinked his eyes open, but quickly shut them again, grimacing. He hummed quietly in acknowledgement.

“Are you feeling dizzy, or lightheaded?”

“Yes,” Logan whispered.

“Is it worse than before, or about the same?”

“Uhm,” Logan swallowed. “It was worse, but it-it’s getting better.” Emile scribbled on the clipboard for a moment.

“Alright. Nausea?”

“Yes.”

“Better or worse than before?”

Logan huffed. “Worse.”

“On a scale of one to ten, can you tell me how bad it is?”

“Uhm… Six?”

“Headache?”

“Not really.”

“Difficulty breathing?”

“No.”

“Heart racing?”

Logan shifted, and let out a sigh. “No…” He sighed again. “I feel sick,” he said suddenly.

Emile gently pushed Thomas’ hand out the way, and eased the mask off. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“I don’t know,” Logan mumbled. “I just…” He whimpered.

“Can you try and drink some water?”

“Okay.” Emile handed him the cup, and Logan took a very small sip. He closed his eyes, and took another. It seemed to help somewhat, as he relaxed a little.

“Okay?”

“… Yeah…”

“Alright. Keep sipping at that. I’ve got a couple more questions,” Emile said softly. “Sensitivity to light?”

Logan grimaced. “A little. I think it’s contributing to the nausea.”

Emile nodded, and stood up. He walked to the light switch and made the light as dim as it would go. “Is that better?”

Logan sighed in relief. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He walked back to his chair and sat down. “Are you feeling too hot, or too cold?”

“No.”

“Alright.” Emile dropped the clipboard at his feet again, and picked up the stethoscope. “Lean forward.” Emile checked his breathing, and then reached for the blood pressure cuff. He hummed in thought, then turned to Thomas. “Let’s get him to the other room,” he said. “I’ll take his blood pressure in there, and we can keep an eye on him until he falls asleep.”

Thomas nodded. He looked down at Logan. “I’m gonna pick you up. Ready?”

Logan blinked, and Thomas knew that if this were any other situation, Logan would have refused outright. As it was, Logan nodded. He handed the cup to Emile, and closed his eyes, clutching Thomas' shirt in his fingers. Thomas adjusted his grip, and stood up as carefully as he could. “You okay?”

Logan hummed.

They made their way into the bedroom, mindful not to disturb the Sides already sleeping. Thomas gently lay Logan down on the bed with sheets checkered in various shades of blue. Emile wrapped the pressure cuff around his ankle. “Hold still for a moment,” he said as he switched the machine on.

Thomas sat down beside Logan on the bed, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. All was quiet until the machine beeped. Emile took the cuff off, and looked at the reading. “Alright. That’s a little lower than I’d like.” He switched the machine off and stood up. “Drink some water,” he said, gesturing to the cup on the bedside table. “I’m going to go get you some medicine that’ll help with the nausea and low blood pressure. I’ll be back soon.” That said, he walked back into his office.

Thomas looked down at Logan, and Logan blinked back wearily. “Do you wanna sit up and drink some water?” Thomas asked.

Logan swallowed, and nodded, so Thomas helped him sit up, and handed him the cup. Logan leaned against Thomas and sipped the water slowly. “… That could have gone better,” he murmured, and Thomas laughed softly.

“It could have, yes.”

Emile walked back into the room with a medicine cup holding three tablets. “Alright,” he said, as he gave the cup to Logan. “Those two are for nausea,” he said, pointing at two white tablets, “and that one’s for blood pressure,” he said, pointing at the smaller, brown tablet. Logan nodded, and swallowed all three with the help of some water. He let out a trembling yawn.

“Lay down, Logan,” Thomas said. He took the cups back, and put them on the nightstand, before helping Logan under the covers. It was then that Logan noticed the changed Roman had made to the ceiling.

“Oh,” he said softly. “It’s pretty.” Emile looked up, and snorted.

“Did Roman do that before he fell asleep?”

“Yeah,” Thomas replied. “Glad that was all he managed.” They both laughed quietly.

“I’m gonna go clean up, and get ready for Patton,” Emile said. “You good here?”

Thomas smiled down at Logan, who was rapidly losing his battle with consciousness. “Yeah. All good.”

“Alright.” Emile was about the leave, but then he paused. “Oh, wait.” He dug into his pocket, and pulled out the packet of stickers. Thomas snickered into his hand. Emile peeled off a gold star that said _‘I rock!’,_ and pulled back the blanket to stick it on Logan’s hand. Logan frowned, but didn’t seem to be totally aware of what had just happened. Emile grinned, waved at Thomas, and left the room.

Thomas hummed under his breath as he made sure Logan was tucked in. “I’m sorry that was so hard, Lo.”

“… ‘s’okay…” Logan mumbled. “’s… Temporary… ‘n for… Good, uhm, cause…”

Thomas smiled. “A good outlook to have. Sleep, Lo,” he said, stroking his hair. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“… Yeah…” Logan closed his eyes, and sighed softly. A moment later, his breathing evened out in sleep, and Thomas let his smile drop as he allowed himself to fully feel the concern for his logical Side. That had been… Very hard to watch, and he hoped to whoever was listening that Patton and Remus had an easier time.

He leaned down once more to kiss Logan’s forehead, before he stood up and wandered back into the office.

Four down, two to go.


	5. Chapter 5 - Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took literal months i had no motivation to write
> 
> also i never write patton so hhh
> 
> also holy shit this has over a thousand hits? why? i never thought people would read this rubbish aha. if i'd known you'd like it, i woulda put it on my main o.O

Thomas wandered back into the waiting room to find Patton and Remus on opposite sides of the room, steadfastly ignoring each other. They both looked unsettled, and if Thomas wasn’t mistaken, he would say Remus looked almost… Embarrassed.

“Everything… Okay in here?” He asked cautiously. They both jumped and looked up at him, and Patton plastered a smile on his face as he stood up. “Everything is A-Okay over here, kiddo! No problems at all, haha…” Remus stared resolutely at the floor, and didn’t respond.

“Uhm, alright… Are you ready to go in, Patton?”

“I’m ready when you are!” Patton replied, and Thomas nodded.

“Let’s go, then.” He spared a concerned glance at Remus, before guiding Patton into the office.

“Hi, Emile!” Patton greeted as they entered the room. Emile looked up and smiled.

“Hello, Patton. How have things been going?”

“Great! We saw a dog on the way to meet Joan yesterday, and Thomas pet it, and I think it was one of the greatest moments of my life!” Emile and Thomas laughed, as Patton mumbled about how cute and soft and fluffy the dog was. Thomas sat down on the armchair as he talked, and pulled Patton into his lap.

“Whoa!” Patton yelped. “Careful, kiddo. You know my balance isn’t the best!” Thomas snorted, and poked Patton’ side, causing him to yelp again. “Ticklish, too!” He squealed. He settled down and busied himself playing with Thomas’ fingers while Emile scribbled something on his clipboard.

“Alright,” he eventually murmured, dropping the clipboard at his feet. “Before we start, I want you to promise me that you will _rest_ afterwards, and that I won’t come in to find you taking care of the others when you should be taking care of yourself.”

Patton huffed. “But, Em-!” He started, but cut himself off at Emile’s stern look.

“You can be a dad all you like later, but you _will_ listen to your doctor. Got it?” The strength of the words were dulled slightly by the fact that Emile was smiling, but Patton nodded anyway, groaning lightly.

“I promise,” he grumbled.

“Good,” Emile said. “So, next thing – We put all the others in pyjamas. Do you want to continue the tradition?” Patton fiddled with the cardigan around his neck as he thought about it.

“Yeah, okay,” he replied. Emile snapped his fingers, and Patton was changed into his sleepwear. The shirt looked almost identical to his regular shirt. The only real difference was that it seemed to be make of silk. The pants were a slightly darker shade of blue than the shirt, and sported strings with fluffy baubles on the end. Patton tugged on the strings and squished the baubles between his fingers.

“How’s that?” Emile asked. Patton smiled.

“Silky and soft,” he replied.

“Very good. Now, final thing – We gave Virgil and Janus a sedative to help calm them down, and ended up deciding to ask everyone else if they wanted it, too. Do you want it?”

“Er..?” Patton shot Thomas an inquisitive look.

“It’s a medicine that you breathe through a mask to make you sleepy, so the vaccines don’t freak you out too much.”

“Oh! Oh, uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Emile asked, and Patton smiled.

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment and then frowned. “But, uhm…” He trailed off.

“What is it, Pat?”

“It’s a little silly…”

“That’s okay,” Thomas said. “Whatever helps you is totally valid.”

“Okay, well, uhm…” He summed a brown dog plushie. “Is it okay if I hold onto this?”

Emile cooed at the toy. “Oh, that’s _precious.”_

Thomas smiled and rubbed Patton’s back. “A friend like that can absolutely hang out with us. Does it have a name?”

“His name is Henry,” Patton replied softly. Emile picked up one of the fluffy paws and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Henry.” Patton and Thomas laughed, and Patton hugged Henry tightly to his chest. Emile turned to the tray, and picked up a sterile wipe. “Are you ready to get started, Patton?”

Patton’s hands, which were tightly clutching Henry’s fur, betrayed his unease, but he gave a wobbly smile as he replied. “Yeah.” Thomas wrapped his arms around Patton in a gentle hug.

“It’s okay if you’re a little bit nervous. Everyone else has been.”

“… They have?” Patton asked in a small voice.

“They have,” Thomas confirmed, “and I’m not gonna hold you to higher standards than them.”

Patton relaxed a little, and let out a shaky breath. “… I’m a little nervous.” Thomas tightened the hug for a moment, and gave Patton a reassuring smile.

“That’s okay. It won’t take long, and I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

“… Thanks, kiddo.”

Emile ripped open the sterile wipe packet. “Can you get your sleeve rolled up for me, please?” Patton complied, and Emile cleaned his arm. He tossed the wipe into the bin, and picked up the first syringe. Patton closed his eyes and buried his head in his plushie when Emile uncapped the needle. “Patton, I need you to relax a little,” Emile said softly.

“Right…” Patton took a deep breath, and manoeuvred the plushie to his right arm so he could grab Thomas’ hand with his left. “I-I’m okay, I think.”

“Alright. Hold Thomas’ hand, and squeeze Henry really tight. We’re gonna do this on three, okay?” Patton nodded hesitantly, and closed his eyes again. “Alright. One, two, three—”

Patton whined, not unlike a puppy, as Emile inserted the needle. “Ah—Oh, that stings a little.” He swallowed, and squirmed. Thomas tightened his hold on him.

“Stay still, Pat.”

“S-sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re doing good.” Thomas squeezed his hand. Patton blinked rapidly, and whined again.

“I don’t like this…” He whispered into the dogs’ fur.

“I know. It’s almost over, though. Hang on.” Patton nodded slightly, and huffed out a strained breath. A moment later, Emile took the needle out, and pressed a cotton ball in its’ place.

“That one’s done,” he said. “How’re you doing, Pat?” Patton sighed shakily, and fiddled with the paws of the dog. Thomas rubbed his back as Emile replaced the cotton ball with a Band-Aid.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?” Patton paused his fiddling, and his eyes tensed. A second passed, and he shook his head slowly. Thomas gave him a sympathetic smile. “Alright. You want a hug?” Patton nodded immediately, and so Thomas pulled him into a gentle hug. Patton clenched Thomas’ shirt in his fingers, and sighed again, but stayed relatively silent. They stayed like that until Patton pulled back, sniffling.

“Sorry…” He said softly.

“Hey, no, Pat, it’s okay,” Thomas replied. “You’re allowed to be upset. It’s okay.”

Patton smiled weakly. “Okay.”

Thomas wrapped him in another quick, tight hug. “You ready to do the next one?”

“Uhm…” Patton fidgeted. “I-I don’t, uhm… Not-not yet…”

“That’s okay. There’s no rush. We can wait until you’re ready.”

Emile picked up the bag of lollies and offered it to Patton. “Take a couple.” The air of unease lifted off of Patton as he became distracted with the candy. Emile and Thomas grinned at each other.

Patton enacted a small battle between Henry and a dinosaur lolly, before biting its’ head off and giggling. “I murdered a dinosaur, Thomas. I dunno if that’s moral or not.”

“Well, was the dinosaur a threat?”

“It was a threat to my hunger.”

“Then I’d say that was a pretty morally sound decision.”

Patton laughed. He grabbed three more lollies from the bag before passing it back to Emile. He bit his lip, hesitating. “I think I’m ready to continue now.”

Thomas squeezed his hand. “Alright, keep a hold on Henry and you lollies, then, and we’ll flip you over.”

“Like a burger!” Patton cheered.

“Like a Krabby Patty!” Emile contributed. They both giggled, and Thomas shook his head in amusement.

“I guess you’re a Krabby Patton, then?” Patton’s eyes lit up at the pun, and he giggled again as Thomas helped turn around and pull his sleeve up. Emile ripped open a new sterile wipe packet.

“Put a lolly in your mouth and suck on it,” he recommended as he cleaned Patton’s arm. “It’ll give you something else to focus on.”

“Okay.” Patton put a grape-flavoured lolly in his mouth, and squeezed Henry’s paw in one hand, and Thomas; hand in the other. Emile picked up the syringe.

“Ready?”

Patton sucked in a breath, and let it out slowly. “Yeah.” Thomas squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Alright. Remember to hold still for me.” Patton nodded. “One, two, three—”

Patton whimpered, and his hand trembled in Thomas’. “Nn—Ow-!” Thomas ran his thumb over Patton’s knuckles.

“It’s okay, Pat. Breathe.” Patton swallowed the lolly, and breathed out a soft cry. “Do you want another lolly?” Patton glanced down at the lollies two lollies in his hand, and shook his head miserably.

“Hurts…” He mumbled.

“I know, bud, I know,” Thomas said. “It’s almost over.” Thomas rubbed his back gently, and Patton sniffled. A tear dripped on top of Henry’s head, and Patton stared at it with a shuddering sigh.

“Alright…” Emile murmured. “All done,” he announced, as he took the needle out. Patton grimaced, and leaned his head on Thomas shoulder as Emile put a Band-Aid on.

Thomas gently pried his hand that held the lollies open, and held them up to Patton’s mouth. “They’re a little melted and sticky, but they’ll still taste fine,” he said with a smile. Patton choked out a laugh, and accepted the lollies.

“Do you want a tissue?” Emile asked.

Patton was quiet for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, please,” he said softly. Emile passed him a tissue, and Patton scrubbed at his eyes with it. Thomas pulled him into another hug when he was done.

“How’re you feeling, Pat?”

Patton swallowed, and shifted Henry in his arms. “Mmm… I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

“… Yeah.” Patton gave him a wobbly smile, and Thomas smile back.

“I’m glad. You’re very brave, Patton.”

Patton blushed. “Oh, uhm…” Thomas laughed, and hugged him again. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Any time. Now,” he made sure he had Patton securely in his arms, and stood up, “to bed with you.”

Patton yelped. “K-kiddo, ah… Are you sure about this? I can walk myself y’know.”

“It’s tradition,” Thomas insisted.

“Oh. Okay.”

Emile laughed, and waved at them, as Thomas exited the room. “We gotta be quiet,” he said. “The others are all sleeping. And I want you to try and rest for a while, too, okay?”

Patton nodded. “I’m… A little sleepy, anyway.”

“That’ll be the medicine. It’s gonna knock you out for most of the rest of the day. Hence all these beds,” Thomas said, as he gently set Patton down on a bed with a fluffy blue blanket and several stuffed animals. Patton pulled them all into his arms, and smiled tiredly.

“I might…” He trailed off as he yawned. “I might take a nap.”

“Good idea.” Thomas helped Patton get under the blanket, and sat down beside him. He ran his fingers through Patton’s hair. Patton yawned widely, and his eyelids fluttered.

“Mmm… Oh, kiddo…” Patton mumbled, as he willed his eyes to stay open for a few moments more.

“Yeah, Pat?”

“I think… Mmm… That, uhm… Remus is scared…” His eyes closed, but he forced them open once more to stare at Thomas beseechingly. “I know… He seems scary… But he’s just scared…”

Thomas blinked at that information. “I’ll keep that in mind, Pat,” he said softly. “Sleep, now.”

“…’kay…” Patton’s breathing evened out quickly, and Thomas made sure he was tucked in, before walking back into the office.

“One more to go,” Emile said, with some relief, as he saw Thomas.

“Yeah. I’m definitely gonna need a nap myself after all this.”

“I’m with you on that one.”

“Yeah…” Thomas glanced at the door to the waiting room, and frowned. “Pat told me that Remus is scared. And when he feels threatened he tends to get… Offensive… So this might be hard.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before Emile cracked a smile. “Well, we’ll just have to make him feel as comfortable as we can, then.”

Thomas nodded, but inwardly he was praying to anyone that would listen that the next few minutes wouldn’t result in him being hit with a Morningstar.

 _‘Saving the toughest till last. Of course,’_ he thought, as he walked back into the waiting room.


End file.
